


Happy Birthday, Q

by babygirl_linds



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Quentin Coldwater, Blow Jobs, Bottom Quentin Coldwater, Dom/sub Undertones, Eliot Waugh's Canonically Huge Dick, Gentle Dom Eliot Waugh, Julia Wicker is a Good Friend, Julia is actually in the main half a lot, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Eliot Waugh, Peaches and Plums (The Magicians), Pet Names, Quentin Coldwater Lives, Quentin is upset over his dads death, References to Depression, Rimming, Sub Quentin Coldwater, Subspace, Supportive Eliot Waugh, This is 10 days late, Top Eliot Waugh, but in form of alcohol, i meant to post it on Quentin’s birthday, it focuses mainly on Quentin and Eliot, these characters are all very minor, these suckers are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babygirl_linds/pseuds/babygirl_linds
Summary: "Let me make you forget your sadness for tonight, Q," Eliot's words were muffled as his kisses made their way to his ear, tongue dipping in slightly. "Let me make you forget tonight and give you a memorable birthday, sweet boy."ORQuentin keeps thinking about the birthdays he spent with his father before his death two years ago and breaks down at his birthday party. Eliot finds him and makes him forget.
Relationships: Margo Hanson/Josh Hoberman (Minor), Quentin Coldwater/Alice Quinn (past), Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, William “Penny” Adiyodi/Kady Orloff-Diaz/Julia Wicker (minor)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	Happy Birthday, Q

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to post this on the 20th, seeing as it was Quentin’s birthday, but I kept putting this story off again and again.
> 
> I finally finished it and now it’s my dad’s birthday, ha! He actually introduced me to ‘The Magicians’. So, happy birthday, dad. Thank you fueling my love for Queliot.

"Jules, no." Quentin frowns at his best friend from where he's sitting. "I don't want to have a party. You know I hate them."

Quentin turned 28 today. He's not particularly fond of his birthday since his dad died two years ago. They had a tradition of getting breakfast at the crack of dawn and then, per Quentin's request, they would watch whatever movie was currently playing at the small theatre in his Jersey town. Then Julia would come over for dinner and they'd eventually end the day sitting on the porch as his dad pointed out constellations to them.

Quentin didn't particularly get along with his parents. His mom left pretty early on and he only visited her every other weekend and on the big holidays. His dad loved him though. He's never doubted that. His dad was awkward though; didn't really know what to do or say to connect to Quentin in the way he needed. That's why Quentin cherished the birthday tradition so much. It was the one day that they didn't need to talk too much, instead they just got to sit and enjoy their time together.

Quentin missed that the most.

"Are you really just gonna stay here all day? Reading? On your birthday?" Julia looked at him with a disbelieving look on her face.

He lifts his right shoulder in a shrug.

"I was gonna take a wine break later."

Julia giggles a bit before slapping a serious look on her face, all stern.

"We all want to throw you a party, Q. You got to mope last year, so now you get to have fun."

We, as in, their friend group. He's pretty sure the only people invested in throwing a party is Jules, El, Margo, and Josh. Penny barely likes him, Alice hates parties just as much as him, and Kady just has the air of 'whatever' about her.

He doesn't want to spend his birthday in a packed room, pressed against the wall as he watches Eliot flirt with random boys and then pull the unsuspecting victim somewhere private. The thought makes his stomach hurt.

Oh, to be the cliché that falls in love with his best friend. He's been there twice.

"I'd rather sit here and read instead of go to a party where I'm ignored and getting drunk in a corner, watching everyone else, BUT me, have fun." Quentin rolls his eyes and turns his head to look out the window.

Julia never understood him. She had it easy. She grew up beautiful and outgoing. Everyone who met her instantly liked her, despite her abrasive nature. Quentin grew up anxious and quiet. He got too nervous in certain situations and often couldn't string together full sentences. He was sweeter than honey, had a heart of gold, and such an imaginative mind that earned him a few friends here and there. The ones who were patient enough to get to know him.

"I promise I won't ditch you, Q. Elliot's even been practicing a couple recipes for some fruity cocktails he knows you'll like. We've been talking about this for a couple weeks now and planning to make this a good day for you." She looked down for a second, looking up again with her best pout. "We want you to be happy and have fun."

Quentin knows how to read between the lines with Julia now, having known her basically his whole life. She's used those words so many times that he knows they actually mean:

_"You've been more mopey than usual and I don't want you to end up back in the hospital."_

He knows she's just looking out for him, which is why she's so difficult with him all of the time. He also knows that she only uses those words when she wants him to agree to something.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and leans his head back into the cushion of his favorite plush chair. He takes a deep sigh.

"Fine. I'll agree to this party, but if I don't enjoy myself, no more parties for my birthday. Got it, Jules?"

She basically cuts him off at her nickname as she squeals out and flings herself in his lap and wraps her arms around his neck to mash him into her smaller body. His book lies crushed between his lap and her bottom. She smells of sugar and cinnamon from her early morning coffee which makes Quentin relax in her grip, feeling at ease with the familiar smell.

"Good, because Margo and El are already decorating for it and I had Kady go get the cake." She smiles a devilish smirk, knowing she'd always get her way with Q. "Now, we're gonna spend the day together, just us two, and we're gonna prepare ourselves to get mega fucked up tonight, okay?"

He cracked a small smile at the big grin on her face. He'd always be a sucker for his best friend.

"Let's get to it, then. What's on the itinerary for..." Quentin grabs his phone and clicks it on to see the time, "11:30 am?"

"I'm gonna order some food, and we're gonna gorge on a beautiful birthday lunch. With some mimosas, because it's never too early to drink when you're another year older!" Julia pokes him in his cheek dimple as she moves to stand up, singing her words as she goes.

Quentin really doesn't want this party to happen, but he's happy to see Julia bouncing around like she used to when they were kids. He'd do anything to make any of his friends happy, especially Julia. She was practically his sister, always looking after him so he didn't wind up in trouble. It'd been hilarious when they were younger as a small, fury-filled Julia stood up to the bigger boys that picked on an even smaller Quentin. Even as they hit high school and Quentin had finally gained height, the still-small Julia flared up her eyes in an angry squint and barked at the boys who taunted him in the halls. Quentin was in debt to her forever.

Julia had a passive aggressive nature, often talking in sickly sweet voice and making backward compliments. She didn't mean to come off that way, it was just the way her parents raised her. They expected nothing less of elegance, acting stuck up and snooty to everyone. Quentin has learned to get used to her family and the way they make him feel inferior.

Quentin looked through the archway of the open kitchen, peering at the small woman as she talked on the phone with her brows furrowed. She was most likely listing demands to the other person and it just made him smile wider at the sight that was just so _Julia_.

Quentin burrowed himself further into the comfy chair thinking about how tonight might turn out. Julia would stick by his side until Kady and Penny pulled her away with lust-filled gazes. He'd end up bumping into Alice, most likely literally, and they make awkward conversation as she wished him a happy birthday. Margo would make a stop his way to tease him with her wicked smile and big doe eyes. She'd probably make fun of what he was wearing as she circled him like a vulture and eventually El would make his way over. He'd ply Quentin with the best tasting drinks, as he nonchalantly flirted with him before he'd abandon him to follow a boy that'd been giving him bedroom eyes all night. Then, Quentin, feeling alone and sorry for himself would sink into a corner and watch as the party dwindled until it was safe for him to pass out on the couch.

It's exactly what happened at the last party his friends dragged him into. He was drunk enough that he was trapped in his feelings all night, pining more than usual as Eliot patted his head and touched his arm in his attempts of friendly flirting. It hurt when a cute boy bumped his own shoulder with Eliot's to drive his attention away from the beaming smile that Quentin was shooting his way. Eliot gave Quentin a firm pat on his shoulder and a parting, "see you later, Q. Daddy's going to get lucky tonight," as he was whisked away.

Quentin knew that was how their friendship worked. They flirted non-stop, bordering on friendly and something more. Quentin had hoped for something more, especially when Eliot looked at him in his smoldering way. Quentin often had to stop himself from leaning in to kiss Eliot's plump lips as he told another one of his stories of how he had lured one of his boys into his bed. They entailed such theatrics that Quentin hoped he'd be apart of the story one day. He wanted to be swept up in Eliot's charm and become a story that Eliot gleefully spread around. At the same time, he wanted to become the only story Eliot told for the rest of their lives.

Sadly, Eliot had taken Quentin for a straight boy who was just touch starved and would lean into anyone's touch. Well, he was wrong about the straight part, but Quentin wouldn't argue the rest. Quentin often told stories from college where he had gotten caught up with quite a few boys to get his sexuality across, but Eliot would just smile and mention how a lot of people experimented in college and that it didn't mean anything.

Quentin just frowned at him until Eliot would dazzle him with his bright smile and drop a kiss to the top of his head. Then he'd lean into his embrace as Eliot started telling him more exciting stories as he twirled Quentin's hair around his fingers.

Nobody really knew about his pining. He was sure Julia had her suspicions, as well as Margo. Margo gave him teasing looks as he blushed under Eliot's gaze, while Julia looked concerned every time her head turned to catch them in some sort of embrace. He's surprised Julia hasn't backed him into a corner and made him spill yet just so she can tell him how she thinks it's a bad idea.

He looks up as she starts to make her way back over to him.

"Okay, we've got your favorite Chinese delivery on the way. A large helping of Shrimp Mei Fun to share with egg rolls on the side!" Julia grinned down at him as she tossed her phone onto the couch.

"How did you know I was craving Chinese food?" Quentin smirked up at her, knowing that was their go-to meal any giving day.

"Just a hunch," she smirked back at him. "Okay pick out one of your nerdy movies while I go make us a batch of birthday mimosas."

"You're a nerd too, Jules, stop pretending you're not!" His voice called after her as she darted back into the kitchen.

He leaned forward and put his book down on the coffee table, picking his phone up as he noticed a few notifications sitting on the lock screen. They were all texts wishing him a happy birthday from his friends, family, and co-workers. Eliot's name caught his eye as he clicked on the message.

**_Happy bday, Q. <3 ready to party? ;)_ **

Quentin let the corners of his mouth lift in a slight smile, before responding back to him.

**_Thank you, El. Considering I just found out about the party 15 minutes ago, not really. But, I guess I should put on my big boy pants and enjoy the party you all threw together for little ol' me. See you later. :)))_ **   
  


Quentin put his phone back down and clicked on the flat screen in his living room, immediately going to Netflix and deciding today was an 'Indiana Jones' day. Julia made her way back as the opening credits started, carrying a pitcher of the delicious orange drink and two champagne chutes.

He stood and grabbed the big, fuzzy blanket sitting on the back of the chair before making his way to the couch to snuggle up to Julia as they got fabulously buzzed. Quentin smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder, thinking to himself.

Right now, being here with his best friend, was all he could wish for.

*******

Quentin was startled awake as a small weight fell on his chest. He blinked his eyes open in alarm, immediately closing them against the light that streamed through the large window facing the couch.

"C'mon, Q. Time to wake up! Go get your ass in the shower," Julia was peering down at him from where she just dumped a pile of clothes on him. "I went and picked you out a nice outfit so maybe you can get some lucky birthday action."

Quentin opens his eyes slowly this time at the sound of her giggle. He almost forgot it was his birthday as he fell into the alluring daze of sleep during the second movie they put on. He'd been pleasantly full from their lunch and pairing it with the mimosas had made it hard to keep his eyes open any longer.

He sits up, blinking sluggishly at the clothes that fall into his lap per his movements. It was the white button up shirt he wore on dates and his black jeans that made look somewhat put together when he wore them. If he cuffed them right, it would actually be a pretty decent look. Cue another reason he was thankful for having Julia around to look after him.

"What time is it, Jules?" His voice was rasped from sleep and slightly cracking. He winced as he cleared his throat. "How long was I asleep?"

"Well, it's around 6, but the party is at 9. I wanted you to get ready first so I had time to do myself up and have you help me, if needed. I promised we'd get there early so we'd all have time to be together and catch up. Also, so we can do the cheesy birthday thing and see you blow out your candles, Q."

Quentin blushes as Julia grins at him. He knew she said Kady went to get a cake earlier, but he just assumed it was just gonna be there as a party treat. He'd never say it out loud, but he secretly loved being surrounded by the people he loved as they sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. It made him feel special and loved right back.

"I kind of can't wait now," he moved to tug a piece of hair behind his ear as he smiled of the thought of his friends all together. "I haven't seen everybody all at once in a while."

"See? I told you this party wasn't going to be a bust. Now, up and at 'em, Q. We got a party to get ready for."

With that, he stood and made his way to the bathroom to get ready. As he passed Julia, she popped him on the bottom. He turned quickly to see her smirking at him.

"Birthday spankings, mister."

With a laugh from him and a wink from her, he realized that tonight actually might not be as bad as he thought.

*******

Julia and him made it to Eliot and Margo's shared house a little before the others. He only recognized Josh's car sitting there and assumed he must've been with Margo all day. Their relationship was a bit strange, Josh constantly following after Margo as she ordered him around. He was funny and quick-witted, where Margo was all sharp edges. He realized that after a few of their hook-ups, Margo's face held the same soft look that she wore around Eliot as she laughed at Josh's dumb jokes. Quentin was happy for them both because no matter how weird the pairing was, they worked well together.

They made it inside without knocking to see Eliot already at the built-in bar, making cocktails and Josh laying out his drug assortments across the coffee table and looking them over.

"Q," Eliot threw his hands up as they entered, dazzling them with his beautiful smile. "Happy birthday, dear Q. You made it just in time to try the first of many cocktails I've mastered for this night."

"Hey, Q, Jules," Josh looked up with his puppy dog smile and waved at them. "Happy birthday, Q. You da man!"

"Hey, thanks guys," Quentin laughed as he made his way over to Eliot. "So what's the first drink you have for me?"

Quentin eyed the swirls of pink and purple in a glass, wondering what he made that looked this good.

"It looks really pretty. And fruity tasting. Is it fruity?" Quentin looked up as Eliot looked him over with his bright smile.

"Always, little Q. Only the best fruity drinks for you. I'll tell you after you take a sip," he holds the glass out to Quentin, urging him with his eyes. "C'mon, taste it."

Quentin grabbed the glass and sniffed at it. He detected peaches and another slight fruity smell he couldn't place. He took a tentative sip, and let his eyes widen at the taste. He took a gulp of the liquid before smiling up at Eliot.

"It's so good. It's peaches and...? Because whatever it is, it works so well together," his eyes met Eliot's as Eliot smirked back at him.

"Plums. Peaches and plums. Good, huh?" Eliot took the glass back and shot it back as he met Quentin's eyes again. "Don't worry, I'll make you all of these you want, Q."

"I never expected these two to taste so good together. Did you come up with this drink yourself or did you look something up?"

Quentin talked excitedly as he questioned Eliot about the drink. He asked a million questions per minute as he slightly bounced in place. Eliot smiled at how adorable he was when he was excited to talk about something interesting. He leaned into the bar, propping his head up on his palm as he watched Q ramble on.

"Well, when we first became friends, you talked about how peaches were your favorite fruit and how anything peach flavored made your mouth water. So, I took the reigns from there and looked up fruits that paired well with peaches," Quentin's eyes widened as he realized that Eliot had remembered something he told him years ago. "And thus this cocktail was born. Took me ages to find a plum flavored liquor, let me tell you."

"Well, it's amazing, truly. You own a bar for a reason, El. You're an artist when it comes to your drink creations," he shyly tucked his hair behind his ear, blushing.

"And you, my dear, are an artist when it comes to words. Such a wonderful novelist you are," he laughed loudly as Quentin rolled his eyes.

"You've never even read anything in your life, El."

"Well, I'm sure you're an artist anyways, Q. Your books sell fast when it comes down to it."

They slipped into easy banter as Margo came downstairs and the rest of their friends arrived. Quentin slipped away to talk to everyone individually. As expected, Margo teased him effortlessly, Penny insulted him, and Kady just slunk back with here and there comments. Eliot made sure everyone had a drink in their hand as they all talked and caught up with one another. Eventually they made their way to where the cake stood in the kitchen per Julia's request.

"Okay, you guys, I really wanted to make sure Q had a good birthday today so I had to be cliché and make sure we started the night off with a birthday wish," Julia smirked as she slung an arm around the blushing Quentin, squeezing him into her side. "He deserves to be sung to and embarrassed by his best friends."

"Best friend, my ass," huffed out Penny as he rolled his eyes.

"Yea, Q deserves this," Alice piped up and shot a small smile in his direction.

"Okay then, losers, let baby Q blow out his candles so he can get to blowing something else tonight," Margo winked as Quentin sunk further into Julia's side, wanting to disappear.

"Stop harassing the poor boy, Bambi," Eliot looked down at the small girl who was at his side, smirking. "Can't you see he's about to combust into flames?"

"Okay, okay, poor me. Can I blow the candles out now?" Quentin wrapped his arms around himself in a hug, shrinking in on himself. "Please?"

"Oh, Q," Eliot cut in, sensing that the boy was in actual distress. "You heard the boy, Julia. Light the cake for our boy."

Quentin smiled at him appreciatively as Julia held her hand out for Eliot's lighter. He placed the lighter in her hand, as his gaze stayed on Quentin, smiling back. Quentin's blush darkened under his gaze as he moved his eyes to watch Julia lean down to light the candles.

"Okay, you all have to sing," Julia pointed her finger at Penny, glaring. "Even you, mister. Now, on three. One, two, three."

They all started singing as Q smiled and watched his friends. Their voices blended seamlessly and Quentin was struck by how lucky he was to have these people as his friends. Even Penny. As their voices died down, he leaned forward and closed his eyes, blowing out his candles. He straightened back up with a frown and wondered why his brain supplied him with that's wish.  
  


_I wish I could forget about my dad and enjoy myself tonight._

He felt selfish immediately and berated his mind, taking a step back as everyone clapped. He looked back up to see Eliot staring at him with furrowed brows. He looked away immediately and smiled at everyone with his thanks.

It looked as if Eliot was about to come up to him and say something until the door bell rang out and distracted him enough for Quentin to slip away. The house started to fill up as people filled in quickly. It was mainly people from their grad school program, people who worked at Eliot's bar, and people in Quentin's publishing company; plus some others he didn't know or care to learn the name of. Everyone he knew personally wished him a happy birthday as he was whisked away to talk. Eliot came by with a new drink every time he saw Quentin's hand with an empty glass. He never said anything except with a pat to his shoulder and a tight smile.

After being backed into a corner by his publicist, Poppy, who was purring in his ear with sexual innuendos and propositions, he sneaked away to the downstairs bathroom, needing a minute to himself after that uncomfortable conversation. He slept with her once and now every time she got drunk, she'd make a move on him. He did his business quickly and looked into the mirror as he washed his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

The party was good, but it was starting to get overwhelming in a way. He already watched as Julia fucked off with Penny and Kady and he watched as Alice talked to a girl he recognized as waitress from Eliot's bar. He surprisingly hasn't seen Eliot slink off to his bedroom yet, but saw him making eyes at a guy getting high with Josh. Quentin studied his hair that was pulled back in a bun, before taking it down and running his fingers through the tangles. His dad liked his hair long; always said it framed his cheeks nicely.

He immediately frowned again as his head filled with a memory of the first birthday he could remember. His dad had built a fort for him and Julia in the living room to sleep in, filled it with so many blankets and all of them pillows he could find. He had carried a fast asleep Julia in after she fell slump on the porch, Quentin following behind him and excitedly asking him more about the stories he had told them as his dad tucked them both into the blankets. He kissed his head as he told Quentin to get sleep and he'd answer all of his questions in the morning.

God, he missed his dad.

He slipped out of the bathroom and looked at the people at the party, making sure no one saw him before making his way through the sliding back door as quietly as he could. His buzz mellowing out as thoughts of his father consumed his head; memories from more past birthdays were on replay as he crept down the steps of the big porch and into the soft grass. He moved to lay back onto the grass, not caring about the eventual grass stains that would adorn the white shirt. He let his eyes slip closed as he imagined his father was there with him, before opening them up to see the dark night sky.

"I miss you, dad. A lot."

Quentin sighed as one arm moved to support his head against the hard ground and the other found purchase gripping at the grass. He was pulling blades of grass out of the dirt as his eyes darted from constellation to constellation. Each mass of stars that he looked upon, he heard his father's voice telling him the name and explaining the origin. Silent tears started to drip down the the sides of his face, cool against his warm skin.

He heard the tale-tell sound of the glass sliding door opening and closing. He wondered if Julia caught on that he went missing and has come to find him, knowing exactly where he ended up. He was mistaken as he heard heavier foot steps against the wooden porch, much too big to be Julia's. He didn't turn his head to see who was joining him on the ground; he just laid silent as the person sat next to his body.

"Honestly Q, have you heard of grass stains?"

Eliot.

Quentin took a breath through his nose as he looked up to see the man looking down at him with a slightly concerned and slightly teasing look. He let out a hum of acknowledgement before looking back towards the sky.

"Quentin, is there a reason why you're out here instead of partying it up for your 28th?" Eliot's face now held a genuine look of concern as his eyes roamed over Quentin's face, only to be met with dull eyes and a frown.

Quentin's opened his mouth to talk as a small sound escaped his throat, sounding like a wounded animal in pain.

"Oh, Q."

Eliot moved until he was close enough to pull Quentin's head into his lap, soft fingers wiping away tears as they continued to leak out of his eyes.

"I'm right here, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eliot sounded pained and panicked, as his lap was filled with a normally sweet face that was now twisted in anguish. "Do you want me to get Julia? I can go get her right now, if you want me to, Q."

Quentin's hand jerked up to grab at Eliot's shirt sleeve, and shook his head in sharp jerks.

"No, no. Please, El," his voice broke out into the night, cracked and weak. "Just- just stay. For a second, please."

His big, wet eyes met Eliot's that were open wide as he stared down at the boy. They soon softened as he moved his hand to drag through Quentin's soft hair. Quentin still had a hold on his sleeve as he brought Eliot's hand to the side of his face and turned his head to nuzzle into his wrist.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll stay. I'm here," Eliot's voice had taken on a soft, soothing tone as he continued to stroke Quentin's hair away from his face and twirled the locks around his deft fingers. "You wanna tell me what made you so upset, sweet boy?"

Quentin sniffed and leaned into the hand that was nuzzled against his face.

"I miss my dad."

"Mhm," Eliot stroked his fingers against the wet skin of Quentin's face in a comforting manner. "And why is it hitting you so hard today of all days?"

"We used to spend the whole day together for my birthday since it was in the summer," more sniffs were heard as Quentin's shaky voice continued on. "We'd end the night watching the stars. Julia usually came over and he'd point out each constellation to us and explain how they got their names and the stories that accompanied them. He told us the same things every year, but we didn't care. It was just a tradition that had grounded me and reminded me how much my dad really loved me."

"Oh, baby." Eliot continued the comforting touches as Quentin openly sobbed.

"He– he was such a great dad and he cared for me so much, El," Quentin looked up at Eliot, his wet eyelashes shining in the dark. Eliot's breath caught in his throat at how truly beautiful the boy was. "I did this last year by myself. I sat in his chair on my porch, and I imagined he was showing me the constellations like every year before that. I cried so much, I fell asleep curled up in the chair, too drained to move back inside."

"Come up here with me for a second, sweetheart," Eliot's voice had fallen softer, if that was possible.

Quentin wiggled his head out of his lap and sat up, twisting around to look at Eliot. Eliot clicked his tongue disapprovingly before reaching forward to grab at the smaller male. Quentin let out a gasp as he was manhandled into Eliot's big lap. He felt his head being pushed against a warm chest and a long arm came to wrap around him until he was pressed even closer. He sat shocked until Eliot slowly rocked them with his body. Quentin relaxed as he nudged his head into the crook of Eliot's neck and brought one of his hands up to clasp at the waistcoat that stretched over Eliot's chest.

"It'll all be okay, little Q," Eliot dropped a kiss against his hair as he made a shushing sound. "Everything will eventually be okay, sweetheart."

Quentin openly cried as he was being comforted by Eliot. He felt warm, safe, and taken care of. He was surrounded in the smell of Eliot as they rocked back and forth. Whiskey, vanilla, and sandalwood. Eliot's embrace made him feel so small in all the best ways. He felt like he was allowed to let go. He didn't feel like he had to put a mask on and smile and say he was okay. He felt like he just had to be there and exist.

He wanted to tell Eliot how safe at home he felt, but didn't want to freak him out. He wasn't ready for Eliot to let him go. So, he moved his head away from the warm neck and pointed at the sky. Eliot's eyes following his movements.

"El, do you see this formation here?" He pointed at a mass of stars as Eliot squinted up, not sure what he was looking for.

"Which one, Q?"

"The one right here. It's shaped like a 'W'," his finger followed the pattern as Eliot tried to follow where his finger was pointed. "See?"

"I'm pretty sure I see it. Which one is that?"

Eliot looked at Quentin's face as Quentin continued looking at the constellation. His eyes were still glassy with tears, but they shined in the light of the stars, revealing a deep, honeyed brown. Eliot was once again struck by his beauty.

"It's the Cassiopeia constellation. Named after a queen from Greek mythology. She was this vain woman who went so far as to sacrifice her daughter. BS, right? Well, she used to go around saying she was more beautiful than these mermaids, who were actually called Nereids by the way. Anyways, they were so mad when they heard what she was saying, they asked Poseidon to punish her since he was married to one of them."

Eliot stared on in amazement at how Quentin seemed to immediately brighten as he told Eliot the story he's heard since he was a child. His eyes were now shining in wonder instead of tears and Eliot's heart tugged in his chest.

"Poseidon wasn't gonna say no to his wife, ya know? So, he sent this monster, Cetus, to destroy the Queen's kingdom basically. Her husband was so distraught over her kingdom being destroyed he sought out help from an oracle who told them to sacrifice their daughter AND THEY DID!"

Eliot smiled bigger as Quentin eyes went big and crinkled as he laughed. His hands were now joining in and flailing about as he kept on with the story. Eliot's heart hammered against his rib cage.

"But low and behold this Greek hero goes and saves her and they get married so thank God, she didn't die, right? Well, at their wedding this guy comes in baring with him the head of Medusa. You know that story right? Anyways, this guy is all like 'you can't marry her because I'm the only way who has the right to yada yada yada'. The hero wasn't gonna give up easy though because that's his woman and he wants to marry her so they start to fight. The guy obviously not as strong as this valued hero, uses Medusa's head as a last resort. The king and queen didn't look away in time and were killed as they got turned to stone."

Eliot's heart now feels too big for his body as Quentin's eyes meet his and goes on to finish the story.

"Poseidon, who was mad that the queen never got her punishment all the way, condemned her to the sky forever. She apparently spends like half of the year upside down. It's always been my favorite constellation because I remember being so interested in the way my dad told it that I had my dad tell me Greek myths as bedtime stories until I was well into my preteens, oof—"

Quentin's lips were suddenly covered in softer ones, as his eyes widened in shock. Eliot was kissing him. The man he was in love with, was kissing him. He didn't know what to do in this moment except to throw all caution to the wind as he felt a big hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck. He pushed up into the kiss and angled his head to the side as a sigh escaped into Eliot's waiting mouth.

Quentin rested a hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest as he moved to balance himself better in Eliot's lap. The hand that wasn't on his neck had taken purchase on his hip, squeezing down on the flesh through his button up. Quentin's body felt on fire as Eliot's tongue traced his seam of his lips, asking for entrance. His mouth opened willingly, as their tongues crashed against one another. Eliot's tongue pushed back on his own and flicked up to lick further into the heat of Quentin's mouth. His tongue swept over the backs of his teeth and pressed to the roof of his mouth, making Quentin pull back in a loud gasp.

Eliot's hand on the back of his neck prevented him from going further, but allowed him to tilt his head backwards. Eliot's mouth immediately darted to Quentin's bared throat and started leaving open mouthed kisses down the pale column.

"El, oh my God, El," Quentin's hands were clutching tight onto Eliot now, his ass grinding unconsciously onto Eliot's growing erection.

"Let me make you forget your sadness for tonight, Q," Eliot's words were muffled as his kisses made their way to his ear, tongue dipping in slightly. "Let me make you forget tonight and give you a memorable birthday, sweet boy."

Quentin knew that he should be thinking logically. He knew that before him and Eliot did anything, they needed to talk. He knew how bad of an idea it was, considering his very real feelings. But as Eliot tugged on the lobe of his ear with his teeth, logic was pushed completely out of his mind in that moment.

"Anything, please," Quentin rocked against Eliot's lap, his own growing erection pressing into Eliot's abdomen. "El, anything you want you can have."

"Stand up, baby," Quentin clung tighter at the command. "I just need to get us to my room, sweetheart," Eliot smirked as his voice lowered in allure. "Unless you want me to take you right here in my back yard where the neighbors could see you coming undone for me."

Quentin whimpered out in embarrassment as he quickly detangled himself from Eliot and stumbled into a standing position. He didn't know if the embarrassment came from the thought of people seeing him in such a vulnerable state or the spike of shame that nabbed at his mind as he thought of people watching him with Eliot.

Eliot chuckled, rising to stand in front of Quentin. He towered over him and all Quentin could do was stare up into the darkened eyes staring down at him.

"Hmmm, we can explore that reaction another time, sweet boy," Eliot grabbed for his hand and began to pull him back towards the house. "Now come along, little Q."

Quentin wrapped both of his hands around the bigger hand and crowded against Eliot's side as they walked, needing to feel close. He let Eliot guide him back through the sliding glass door, through the kitchen, and through the hall to where he guided him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Quentin only looked towards Eliot as they made their way through the house.

As soon as Eliot had them safely locked away in his bedroom, his hands found their way back to Quentin's body. His hand slithered under Quentin's shirt to meet warm skin, fingers dancing over the dip of his waist. Quentin shivered against him, arching away from the ticklish sensation and pressing his lower half firmly against Eliot's.

Eliot's other hand loosely grabbed the silken locks of Quentin's hair, tugging until their lips met again. He'd seemed to take control of both of their movements, but Quentin didn't seem to mind as he allowed himself to be moved where Eliot deemed necessary. He didn't realize they were moving until his back met the wall. On instinct, he pressed firmly into it and broke their lip lock to gasp as Eliot's hands tightened all over his body.

"Look at you, baby. So pretty. You want this so bad. You want me to make you forget the world for a while? Want me to only make you remember my name?" Eliot's voice sounded raspy to Quentin's ears and his ears strained to hear every word that dripped like honey off of his tongue.

"El, El," Quentin's hips start moving without his consent as they seek out friction. His own breathy sounds now met with a groan from Eliot. "Fuck me, El. Wanna forget, please. Please."

He's whining, but he can't seem to care when Eliot is making the sexiest noises he'd ever heard. His hands come up to unbutton Eliot's layers. He just wants to see skin. Lovely, beautiful skin stretched against a long and lean body. He's seen the dark hair that peeks out of the tops of his shirts sometimes and he wants nothing more than to press kisses against the furred chest. He hurriedly tugs the shirt and waistcoat off off of his shoulders as he lets his eyes roam the expanse of Eliot's chest and abdomen.

He reaches out to touch, but Eliot brings his own hands up to grab at Quentin's wrists, transferring them to one hand as he tugs them above his head to rest against the wall. He brings his other hand to the dip of Quentin's button down, dragging it down swiftly as the buttons pop off in his wake. Quentin makes a wounded noise as the shirt hangs limp against his frame.

"Shush, sweet boy, I'll let you leave in a better shirt. My shirt," Quentin whimpers as the hand holding his wrist tightens. "Bet you'd look even prettier in my clothes rather than those drab things you just throw on."

"Don't, ahh," Eliot's hand drags up his abdomen to wrap around his ribs, thumb coming to press down on his hardened nipple. "Don't insult my clothing. I like – ah, ah, oh my God. I like my clothes."

Eliot's thumb is swiping over the nub, ever so slightly, pulling even sweeter noises from Quentin's open mouth. He presses down and rubs in a circle as Quentin mewled like a cat in heat.

"You're so sensitive right here, baby. Wonder where else I can touch to make you cry out so prettily."

Quentin pulls against the large hand holding him against the wall and arches into Eliot as a leg moves in between his thighs. His hardened member is straining against his jeans and humping against Eliot's leg, seeking any kind of pressure to dull his ache. From where they're pressed together, Quentin can feel Eliot's own, larger, member pressing into his hip, moving in small circles.

He feels so hot in this room, almost feels like he's burning alive. He wants anything and everything all at the same time. He wants to feel Eliot's mouth everywhere on his body, but he also wants to get his mouth on every inch of skin Eliot has to offer as well. He wants Eliot to bend him over and fuck him rough and fast, but at the same time he wants him to open him up slowly and lay him back on the bed and fuck into him gently. He'd ask for something if he knew what he wanted, but for now he settles for loud moans and whines.

"Please, El. Need more. Need, need —"

"Yea, baby? What do you need?"

"Anything, El. Please."

Eliot drops his wrists as swoops down to claim Quentin's mouth once more. It's all sloppy and open mouthed, as Eliot tugs the ruined shirt from Quentin's broad shoulders. Quentin's hands, now free, are moving to unbutton Eliot's pressed pants, wanting to see more skin. Eliot bats his hands away and moves to nip at Quentin's neck.

"Nuh-uh, baby. We're leaving these on until you're begging to just see my cock," Eliot gives a sharp bite at the end of his sentence, making sure the message is clear in Quentin's head.

Quentin knows there will be one or a few visible bruises by the end of the night, but he doesn't care; he wants them. He wants people to know he had Eliot, even if it was only one night. Eliot's hands are now undoing the button on Quentin's dark jeans, but he doesn't move to tug them down. Instead his hands move along the band until he's right above Quentin's pert ass. His hands slip down into the space of his jeans, over his briefs, and kneads into the cheeks with strong hands.

It has Quentin pressing back into his hands and rocking forward all at once. He wants more, is willing to get on his knees and beg for it. Eliot's mouth is still leaving love bites across his taunt neck and using his hands to press Quentin further into his gyrating pelvis.

"Can't wait to see you all spread out for me, Q. Your ass is way too adorable, but I bet it looks so much better not hiding under those baggy pants," Eliot chuckles to himself, as if insulting his clothes brings him joy. Which, honestly, it probably does. "Wanna get my mouth on it too. Bet you taste so good, baby. You want my mouth on you?" Quentin moans at the thought of Eliot's mouth on his most private spot. "Yea, you like that? How about my mouth on your cock? Every birthday boy deserves a birthday blow job."

"Yes, fuck, El," Quentin didn't realize how much he wanted it until Eliot spoke it into the world. "Need your mouth. Need it so – so much."

"Yea, baby? Where do you want it? Here?" A kiss pressed hotly against his jaw. "Here?" A finger presses down through his briefs, right on his hole. "Or maybe," Quentin hears a thump hit the floor and small puffs of air on the skin above his waistband, as Eliot falls to his knees. He presses on the bulge hiding behind Quentin's jeans, caressing it. "Here?"

"El-iot. Please. Anywhere," Quentin's head knocks back further into the wall, eyes clenching tighter. "Anywhere, El. I want you everywhere."

"Sh, sh, sweet boy. I'll give you want you need," Eliot's hand moves to pull at his jeans, helping Quentin step through each pant leg. "I'll make this so good for you, baby. You'll remember my mouth even in your dreams."

Quentin is anticipating the first touch to his cock. He's sure if he were wearing his grey briefs, a dark wet patch would be visible to Eliot's eyes, but he'd went with black so the only sight Eliot is met with is fabric stretching tight over his thickness. He opens his eyes to look down and the first thing he sees is Eliot leaning down to mouth hotly at his bulge. He feels like he's been shocked as he thrusts up against the pressure. Eliot's hands come back to press his hips firmly against the wall.

"Baby, I'm gonna remove your underwear and then I'm gonna swallow your cock, but you're gonna let me control the pace," Quentin gasps at the slight domineering tilt to Eliot's voice. "You're gonna let me suck you off and you're gonna keep your ass against this wall. I'm gonna make you lose your mind until you're all sweet and pliant and relaxed for me. Understand?" Quentin looks down at Eliot's darkened gaze, nodding slowly. Fingers tighten on his hips instantly. "Use your words, Q."

"Yes, El. Please," Quentin whimpers his understanding, squirming against the hold. "Please suck my cock, El."

"Okay, sweet boy, since you asked so nicely."

Quentin is met with a smirk as Eliot's hands slithers down to grab at the waistband of his briefs and suddenly yanks down. Quentin gasps out against the cool air of the room hitting his wet tip. He shivers as Eliot presses his mouth against his fuzzy thigh, kissing up to his hip, ignoring the heavy heat of his member.

"You have such a pretty cock, baby boy," Eliot's eyes are half-lidded as he brings a hand to wrap around him. It's large in comparison and covers most of him. "So, so pretty. You flush the same pretty pink on your cheeks as you do here; and you're so wet, baby," his thumb swipes against the leaking tip, making Quentin let out a hiss, similar to a cat.

Eliot dropped down to mouth _wet, hot_ against the head. His tongue dipping in to swirl at the slit, collecting the pre-cum that laid there. Quentin's hands clenched and unclenched, unsure what to do with them as pleasure crashed over him. Eliot noticing the fidgeting limbs, slid off, tongue dragging around the head as he went.

"You can put your hands in my hair, baby," he brings his hands back to Quentin's hips to instill they stay in place. "But I'm gonna keep you here, so you know who's in charge, sweet boy."

Eliot brought his mouth back to the heavy length, sucking him down halfway to run his tongue along the underside, against the vein there. Quentin moans loudly at the assault against his cock, one of his hands flying to clutch at dark curls and the other clasping on Eliot's bicep. Eliot is moving further down until his nose is buried in the honeyed brown curls at the base of Quentin's cock. Quentin gasps at being completely engulfed in the wetness that is Eliot's mouth. He's not big enough to come as a shock that Eliot swallows him down like it's nothing, but looking down he can see Eliot's mouth stretched around his thickness.

His eyes trail up from where his cock is moving in and out of Eliot's mouth to Eliot's eyes, which are staring up at him. His pupils are dilated ten-fold, the hazel now looking like molten chocolate. His eyes hold Quentin's gaze in that smoldering way and Quentin feels like he could cum right then and there. Eliot must feel him twitch in his mouth, because he hollows his cheeks and sucks harder, as his eyes flutter against flushed cheeks. Quentin loses himself as he watches the dark, long lashes fan themselves against the silken skin.

"El, oh — El, El, I'm gonna —" his hands tighten where they lay clutched at Eliot, his open mouth releasing mewls and whines. "I can't hold it. Ahh, I'm gonna cum."

Eliot's hands tighten on his hips as he brings his mouth up to suckle on the cock-head, unrelenting. His tongue dips back into the slit and swirls as he suctions. Quentin can't hold back as his eyes shut against his will and a shiver shoots down his back. He's coming as Eliot brings a hand to pump against the remaining length, milking his cock thoroughly. He pulls off of the softening member, pressing a kiss against the tip and licking his lips as he goes. Quentin's breathing is heavy as he opens his eyes to look back down at Eliot's large grin.

"So, sweet boy, did you like your birthday blow job?"

Quentin's blinking sluggishly at him, registering the question in his fuzzy mind.

"God, yes, but – but," he whimpers out, still feeling an unrelenting fire underneath his skin. He feels like he's about to catch flames any moment. "Wanted you, El. Wanted you to fuck me."

His voice has dropped down into a loud whine. He knows he's acting like a child, but he feels so empty; he just wants to be full. He wonders if he'll start sobbing again because he just feels so lost. Did Eliot really suck his brains throw his dick or something? He vaguely feels his eyes well up once more as Eliot moves to stand in front of him. His eyes are suddenly staring straight back up into Eliot's eyes, his thumb and forefinger grasping Quentin's chin to tilt him where he wants him.

"Sh, sh now, baby. I'm right here," his voice is honey sweet and if Quentin could reach out and touch it physically, it'd feel like the softest thing in the world. "I'll take care of you, baby. I won't let you be empty. Do you wanna get on the bed for me, sweet boy?"

It's a question, but Quentin can hear the slight demanding tone that lingers beneath the softness. Quentin immediately nods his head in jerky movements, as Eliot lets his chin go. He rushes over to the bed and scoots until he's snuggled in the monumental amount of pillows at the headboard. He can feel the soft comforter under his naked body and he just wants to sink further into the bed.

"Such a good boy, baby," Eliot's watching him through this all and can't help but notice exactly how cat-like Quentin is. He slightly wonders if he should be calling him 'kitten' instead. The way he languidly stretches out like he's basking in the sun as he receives praise from Eliot is further proving his observation.

Eliot wonders if Quentin had realized he's fallen into sub-space, or if he's even done so before. He naturally fits into the submissive role that Eliot would think he's been doing this for years, but Quentin is also such a naturally submissive person that it doesn't come as a shock to him that Quentin would be the same in bed.

Quentin peeks up at Eliot's watchful gaze and immediately his face is twisted in a pout. He wants El closer; so close it's all he can sense.

"El, want you right here. Please," his voice still holds the whine, small whimpers slipping out as well. "Need you right here."

"I'm coming, baby boy. Just be patient for me. Can you be a good boy and be patient?" Eliot's voice is now low, sounding like a hum to Quentin's ears.

Quentins whimpers out his assent, nodding as his mind goes even fuzzier at the edges. He feels like he's on some sort of trip, but he's sure he never took anything besides a couple alcoholic drinks. He watches as Eliot's long, elegant fingers are undoing the rest of the buttons on his pants that Quentin never got to. He makes the motions seem hotter than they should be and Quentin is hit by all the times he's focused on Eliot's hands doing minimal tasks and getting turned on by them.

He feels a twitch of his spent cock and he wonders if he's going to get it up again. He hasn't done that since he was 25 and dating the ever-insatiable Alice. He wonders if he could now be called insatiable. He thinks anyone would be if they were with the spectacular Eliot Waugh. He can't help but think of Eliot as anything other than gorgeous as he pulls his pants down his long legs, leaving him standing in short, silk underwear. Quentin focuses on the head of Eliot's massive cock that's peeking out past the waistband.

He can feel his mouth watering as he realizes he might just be a bit of a size queen. He loves how Eliot is bigger than him; loves to be towered over and overtaken by bigger limbs. He licks his lips as Eliot smirks down at him and plays with the waistband until he's peeling those off too. He notices that Eliot is uncut and immediately can't wait until the next time so he can get his mouth on him and dip his tongue into the foreskin.

"You like what you see, Q?" Eliot's smirk is sharp and his voice is teasing. Quentin can only gulp in response. "You want to be full? Well, baby, you'll be so full with this cock. You'll feel so empty afterwards that you'll be begging to be filled again."

"Fuck, El. Want – no, _need_ that. Please," Eliot's crawling onto the bed to hover over him now as he begs for the need to be full.

"I'll give you want you need, sweet boy. You've been so sweet for me; so lovely. I'll give you whatever you need, Q."

Eliot leans down to press his lips firmly to Quentin's, just a chaste, closed-mouth kiss. He breaks the kiss to reach into his bedside table for the lube and condoms he keeps in mass quantity. He deposits the items beside them as he brings his hand to trail down the smaller boy's compact body. He moves to wrap a hand around Quentin's sensitive member that is slowly hardening once again. Quentin gasps and arches his back, shying away from the touch, still sensitive.

"Alright baby, I'm gonna open you up slowly to make sure you're ready for my cock, okay?" Quentin nods back at him, chewing his bottom lip as he looks up at Eliot in a trusting manner. "Remember your words, sweet boy."

"Okay, El. Please get me ready for you. Want it so bad," Quentin's voice comes out small, but holds that low huskiness.

"I'm gonna need you to flip over for me, sweetheart. I'll put a pillow under your hips so you're more comfortable."

"But I wanna see y—"

"Don't worry, baby, you can turn back over when I get you ready for me. This will just be more comfortable for you. I just want you to feel good, Q."

Quentin gives a small nod as Eliot moves to sit back on his heels, giving him room to roll over. He grabs Quentin's ankles and pulls until he's relaxing flat on just the comforter. He plucks a pillow that's near his head and coaxes the small boy into lifting his hips until it's placed snugly under him. Eliot now has one of the most beautiful views staring back at him in the shape of Quentin's small and slightly fuzzy, perky ass. It's perfect and so peach-like that he wants to bite at it. So, he does.

He's leaning down until he's kneeling over Quentin's arched up bottom. He placed a firm kiss on the meat of one cheek, before opening his mouth and nipping at it. He's met by Quentin's shocked gasp and smirks against the skin. He runs over the pale skin of his ass with his hands, soothing Quentin further into the bed.

He grabs at the cheeks and parts them so he can finally see what he's been waiting for, nearly moaning at at the sight of Quentin's hole. It's a small furl of pink that looks like it's winking at him. He can't help but wonder what he must taste like and how tight it's going to feel around him. He brushes a thumb over the tiny hole, and watches it quiver and tighten before his eyes. He thinks that Quentin is even beautiful right here as he presses his thumb firmly against him. Quentin lets out a long whine and rocks back to meet his finger.

"God, Q, look at you," Eliot sounds amazed and watches Quentin arch into the touch with wide eyes. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart. Making such pretty noises for me and you're so, so responsive when I touch you. My sweet, pliant boy."

He finally gives in and drops a kiss to the rim, tasting the musky scent of boy; sweat from the heat of summer and a hint of soap. It drives him wild as he delves deeper to flick his tongue to the tight muscle. Quentin lets out a sharp gasp, clearly not expecting this treatment as Eliot laps at him. He's pushing back into it, shocking himself at how much he wants it; at how much he wants Eliot to do everything to him.

The tight muscle gives under the relenting pressure and spit from Eliot's mouth, as his tongue wiggles deeper to swipe into him. Quentin is moaning with reckless abandon, rocking his hips into the pillow beneath him. He realizes he's hard again and steadily leaking already.

"Oh, my God, El. Your mouth – your mouth, El," he almost thinks he could come untouched, just from this.

"Yea, you like my mouth, baby?" He detaches from the hole, slipping a finger in just up to the knuckle with the spit there. He looks up to see Quentin's face half-pressed into the bed with a pinched expression and an open mouth leaking drool. He wants to devour him. "Could eat you out all night until you cum, baby."

He chuckles as he's met with a resounding moan. He quickly reaches for the lube and drizzles some over the hole and his finger to wiggle it in further.

"You'd like that, huh? Hmm, maybe next time, baby," Quentin feels tight just around his finger and Eliot wonders how fast he's gonna cum once he has this ass wrapped snug against his cock. "But now? Now, I'm gonna open you up until you're begging to be fucked; begging for my big cock."

Quentin pushes against the finger inside of him and swallows around the spit gathering in his mouth.

"Please, please, please, El," he's words are slurred together, but his message is clear as he rocks on the barely there finger. He needs more. "More, El, need it."

"I'll take care of you, baby. I'll give you more."

He takes his finger out to drizzle more lube over his hand and goes back in with the two fingers, easing them in slowly as to not hurt the smaller boy. It's a tighter squeeze, but the muscle gives in easily. He briefly wonders if Quentin fucks himself on his fingers some times. The thought reminds him of his own throbbing erection and he quickly brings his other hand down to stroke the tender flesh to ease the dull ache. He moans out as he watches Quentin's hole flutter as he works his fingers in and out. He pulls his foreskin back to swipe at his leaking tip. He's so turned on by Quentin and what's taking place that he's producing copious amounts of fluid.

He's scissoring his fingers against the tightness and crooks his fingers against every other thrust. He's searching for the spot that will have Quentin relaxed enough to work a third finger in. As he drags his fingers down on the next couple of movements, Quentin spasms before letting out a loud groan. He grins, as he rubs against it, watching Quentin turn to goo before his eyes. He's so pliant under his hands that Eliot is wondering why he hasn't tried to do this before. He slowly works a third finger in as he showers Q with compliments and praise for taking his fingers so well.

"Please El, feels so good," Quentin's words are overpowered by his moans and whimpers, but he keeps talking anyways. "Need your cock, need it. Please, El. Fuck me, please."

"Yea, Q? You're ready to take my cock?" Eliot's fingers are curling in and out steadily, continuing to stretch him enough for Eliot. "You think you're ready to take me, baby?"

Quentin whimpers out his assent as Eliot eases the fingers out of him. He tugs a bit at the rim as he's pulling out, just to hear another one of Q's sweet-sounding whines. He tugs the pillow out from beneath the panting boy, as he rolls him over and brings him to lounge slightly on the mountain of pillows. Quentin is staring up at him with glassy, wonderstruck eyes and Eliot is breathless as he stares back. He looks wrecked with his hair tangled around his head like a halo and mouth shaped bruises that adorn his pale skin. He wants to lock this image away and keep it to himself forever. He never wants anyone, but him, to see how beautiful he looks when he's blissed out of his mind on sex. He only wants Quentin to be so compliant and needy for him.

The realization makes his heart heavy, so he leans down to nip at Quentin's red and swollen lips so he doesn't say something crazy out loud. Quentin moans into his mouth as their tongues tangle together and groans into Eliot's mouth as he tastes himself on the tongue that's fucking into his mouth.

"El, 'm so empty, please."

"Oh, Q, baby. I'm here; gonna take such good care of you."

Eliot reaches for the condom that he placed on the bed earlier, tearing into it and quickly fitting it over himself. He reaches for the lube again to thoroughly slick his cock. He loosely fists himself as he kneels between Quentin's open legs. He brings his fingers back to the twitching hole and makes sure he's open and ready, twisting his fingers in the slick heat. He slips them out and moves to bring his cock to rub against his perineum, relishing in Q's sweet noises before dragging it down to rest the tip against his rim. He watches as it clenches and unclenches in anticipation of taking Eliot's large member. He pushes in slightly, meeting resistance as the head slips in.

"Relax, sweet boy, you're doing so well. Already taking me like a pro, baby," Eliot brings his hands to rest on his hips as he rubs his thumbs in soothing circles.

"Oh my, fuck. Eliot. Jesus," Quentin's words sound punched out, like he's struggling to talk. "You're so huge, Jesus fuck, El."

"Yea, baby? You like it?" He eases back out and thrusts back in slowly as he tries to fit more in. "Gonna fuck you until you scream, baby."

Quentin only babbles up at him, bringing a foot up to wrap around Eliot and press into his lower back, so that Eliot slips in deeper. Eliot groans loudly as he sinks into him bit by bit. Quentin is even tighter than he could imagine, ass gripping his cock like a vice. He's really trying to stave off his impending orgasm, because the pressure is making him lose his mind. He hears the airy moans from both of them as his pelvis meets the wiry curls at the base of Quentin, fully encompassed in the tight heat.

Quentin feels Eliot so, so deep inside of him and brings a hand to Eliot's shoulder to sink his bitten nails into the skin, needing something to ground him.

"Just, fuck, just stay there for a sec, El. Please. Need a moment."

Their breathes are intermingling as Eliot brings his forehead to rest against Quentin's. He presses a small kiss against the open, panting mouth.

"You're so tight, Q. Feels amazing. Fuck, you feel so amazing. You take me so well. Made just for me, weren't you, sweet boy? Made to take this cock."

Eliot continues to mumble praise against his lips as Quentin pushes back on his cock, grinding into him. They both let out similar groans of pleasure that echo off the bedroom walls.

"El, fuck me, please. 'M good. So, so good."

Eliot jerks his hips into Quentin's, the slapping sound of skin driving him further. He brings one of Quentin's legs up to his chest and is amazed at how his leg goes so easily. Quentin is nearly incoherent as he gasps and withers against the new angle. His eyes look wild as he stares up at Eliot thrusting into him.

He's quickly approaching his second orgasm of the night as Eliot pistons his hips in a way that drags over his prostate with each movement. He's sure he's drawling blood as his nails press further into Eliot's skin. He can't seem to hold a grasp on reality as he brings his hand down to his cock to stroke in time with Eliot's thrusts.

"You gonna cum for me again, Q? Gonna make a mess out of yourself as I fuck you through it? I can feel you pulsing, baby. You're so close."

"El, it feels s'good. Never felt this good before. Want you to cum – ah! Want you to cum in me, El."

Eliot's hips loose momentum as he feels Quentin's hole flutter around him. He knows Q is close to spilling any minute and he's not far behind either. He rolls his hips in a way that reaches a deeper angle, drawing more kitten-like mewls from his parted lips. He watches as Quentin's face scrunches up and his mouth opens wider to let out a loud cry as he suddenly jerks his body into an arch. He fucks him in earnest as his eyes shoot down to watch his cum spill over his hand and onto his contracting tummy. He follows the way it goes concave and how the cum pools there.

Eliot watches as his muscles suddenly relax into the bed and pumps once, twice until he's buried to the hilt inside of Quentin and spilling into the condom. He's never known sex to be this memorizing before, but he watches in wonder as Quentin mewls and paws at his chest at the over-sensitivity and how his eyes flutter as he finally slips his softening member out of him. He's in a daze as he pulls the condom off and ties it. He carries it to the trash can in his adjoining bathroom as he wets a washcloth with warm water and makes his way back to the whimpering boy.

He cleans Quentin off, relishing in the small gasps that he lets out. He knows Quentin must be coming down from sub-space as he moves the pliant boy under the blankets and leaves to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge in his room. He unscrews the cap as he lifts Quentin's head to meet the neck of the bottle. He watches as Q takes greedy gulps and wants to lick up the bit of water that is dribbling down his chin. He brings the remaining water to his lips, as Quentin flops back down, and downs the rest. He's about to move and slip on his underwear when Quentin looks up at him with puppy dog eyes and makes a grabby hand at him.

He smiles softly at the nerd as he slips under the blankets to cuddle up to him. Quentin immediately rests his head on El's chest, hand moving to play with his chest hair. He's making delighted sighs that makes Eliot want to wrap him up in his arms and never let go. He brings his hand to tangle into Q's hair and kisses his forehead as he melts further into him.

He can feel the moment Quentin slips out of sub-space completely, his body growing fidgety and more drawn-in. He can feel the gears turning in his over-working brain and moves to tuck some hair behind his ear.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Q?" Eliot's voice is soft, like he's about to spook an easily frightened horse.

"I'm trying to figure out what this means," his brows furrow against his forehead as he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. "What... is this?" His hand picks up and motions at their intwined bodies before dropping back down.

"Well, what do you want it to be, Q?" Eliot is worried for what might come out of Quentin's mouth next, not ready to give up on the idea of Quentin possibly being his.

"I, um. I like you? Shit, sorry that wasn't supposed to sound like a question, I promise," he's back to his stuttering and rambling self as he tries to get his feelings across. "What I mean is, I've liked you for a long time, El. You just brush me off all the time, so I'd assumed you didn't feel the same way. So, um, I guess what is this to you?" His voice has dropped to a whisper, sounding small and caged in.

Eliot stills as he thinks it over. He was sure Quentin was just straight. He met Quentin in grad school when he was a second year and Quentin had immediately gotten together with Alice. He showed no interest in Eliot besides his stammer and blush, which was a common Quentin Coldwater gesture. He'd just given up by the third time Quentin got back together with Alice. Margo steadily gave him hope over the years as she continuously stated how bi Q actually was, but Quentin had never made a move and he didn't want to scare him off by making a move of his own.

He couldn't hold back tonight though. Quentin looked so beautiful in the light of the night sky, all wallowing and soft. He just couldn't control himself anymore. He'd been lucky when Quentin eased into it instead of jerking away. He thought he was just gonna have a quick one night stand with this sweet boy, in the form of being there for him in his time of need, but now? Now, he was getting so much more than he could ever hope for.

"Q, baby, I like you too. Liked you for so long."

Quentin lifts his head and twists a bit to look at him. His eyes hold shock and amazement and they're so bright. Then his forehead creases with furrowed brows and his eyes squint a bit.

"But, but you never – you bring so many boys – El, what?"

"I thought you were straight and I didn't want to ruin what a good friendship we had," he brings his thumb to rub against the creased lines of Quentin's forehead, relaxing the skin back into smoothness. "I couldn't lose you, Q. You make me happy."

"I'm bi, for the record," Quentin's smile is big as he giggles. He turns his head to kiss Eliot's wrist delicately. "Also, you make me happy too, El. Really. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for letting me talk about my dad and thank you for being exactly what I needed to take my mind off it. You truly are spectacular, El."

"I'd do anything for you, sweet boy. Now get some sleep before we have to deal with Margo and Julia tomorrow," he coaxes Quentin back into a cuddle as he soothes him with kisses against his head.

"Goodnight, El. Thank you for letting me have a new reason to look forward to my birthday."

"You deserve the best birthdays, baby," Eliot smiles as he plays with Quentin's hair.

His hands dance through the locks as Q's breathing evens out and starts letting out tiny snores. He can't believe the night turned out in his favor for once and he wants to stay in the afterglow forever. He's got Quentin's adoring eyes pictured in his mind as he starts to ease into sleep as well.

"Happy birthday, Q," he pauses for a beat, making sure Quentin is still in dreamland. "I love you."

His eyes droop and a dopey smile crosses his lax face. A happy birthday, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos + comments are appreciated and I thank you in advance! <3
> 
> Come check out my tumblr for more Queliot content & art! @babygirllinds


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